Gotham Life
by Kobito Dukan
Summary: A series of one-shots detailing the intangible relationships between the Bat, the Joker and the all the other characters that live in the Batverse.
1. The End

**Batman can't live without the Joker. The Joker can't live without Batman. Moment of epiphany for the Bat: Maybe the world is better off without the both of them.**

Acid green eyes met icy blue ones. "Oh, _Batsss_. Must you rain on my parade?"

"You're going back to Arkham Asylum, Joker." Batman said stoically.

"Hm-mhh...I just love it when ya try to force-feed me justice. It's too cute." The Joker straightened his suit jacket and stuck his tongue out, waggling it a little. "Just...try to smile more, woncha?" He took a smoke grenade out, popping the pin with great relish. "See...I don't _want_ to go back to Arkham. Much as I miss my fellow inmates!"

Batman scowled as smoke filled the narrow street alley, climbing up the dilapidated walls of the buildings. "No more _games_ , Joker! I'm not here to play Hide and Seek!"

He shot his grappling hook up at the rooftop and scaled up to gain a better view of the situation. Down below, the smoke was getting thicker, if that was even possible. Straining his eyes to get a glimpse of a thin, wild-haired silhouette, Batman nearly missed the chuckle at his ear.

Spinning, he managed to snag the Joker's jacket and throw him backwards. "That's _it_ , Joker. That's it! That explosion killed hundreds at the hospital. Barbara Gordon was one of them. Is that your idea of fun?" Batman drove his fist into the Joker's gut with all his strength, expelling the air from the the Joker's lungs. Atop the rooftop, he straddled the Prince of Crime and struck out violently, landing punches at every inch of the clown. "Goddamnit, Joker! _Is that your idea of fun_?"

The Joker tipped his head back, blood trickling down his chin. He laughed.

 _Laughed_ , long and loud. Laughed right in Batman's face, eyes crinkled in mirth.

Batman stared back, stunned. For the first time, it fully registered: the Joker was _lost_. He was insane, and nothing could ever help him or rehabilitate him. There was no one here to save; this was an empty, hollow shell of a maniac, and goddamnit, the Joker was _lost_. His muscles lost their strength all of a sudden.

The Joker could have shoved him off in that moment of weakness, but he didn't. "Look at you, Bats! Look at you! A dark, vengeful king. A _god_."

"I'm not a god." Batman said bitterly. "Would that I were."

"Everything I do – everything _we_ do – we do for you. Sacrifices for this angry bat-god...sacrifices to make you _stronger_. Oh, Batsss...we in Arkham Asylum...we love you sooo much. We-"

"Shut up!" The words came out as a low growl. "Don't lie to me, Joker. I know your mind games: so now all those deaths were my fault? Don't tell me you kill because of me! Don't you _dare_ -" Batman gritted his teeth, feeling his jaw clench. "And if I'm your god, then what are you? The Devil?"

"Ahhh...you could say that, darling. But what you don't know...what the Bible doesn't say...is that the Devil is God's _friend_. Constantly challenging Him...giving Him obstacles, making Him more powerful." The Joker licked his lips languidly. "It is because of the Devil that people need God! Can't you _see_?"

Batman shook his head numbly, sick to his stomach. He wondered if Comissioner Gordon had received the news of his daughter's death yet. As if being shot in the spine and paralysed wasn't enough. "I wish I could kill you." He said hoarsely.

"You wouldn't." The Joker chuckled sagely. "You couldn't. We're two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other. Batman can't be _Batman_ without _me_!"

Batman was silent.

"What is it, Batsy-poo? Brooding?" The Joker screamed with laughter.

"I hear you." Batman's voice was odd, almost tinny, as he regarded the Joker with empty blue eyes. "You know what?"

"What, Bats? I'm all ears!"

"The world will be better off without us." Batman whispered. He gripped the Joker with a tight, vice-like grip, and flung the both of them off the rooftop.

 _And so the Bat-God held the Devil to his chest, and made the final sacrifice._

 _They say the Devil laughed all the way down to hell._


	2. Brotherly Love

**BatBro fluff after a dark Chapter One.**

 _So typical of Drake to fall sick,_ Damian thought. Of course the little runt would be shivering in bed on a perfectly good Saturday afternoon, making the whole family feel obliged to stay home with him. Father had even cancelled his business trip to take care of Drake. "But you promised, Grayson," he said, trying his best not to whine. "We're supposed to go to the zoo!"

Dick sighed and ran one hand through his hair. "Dami, I know I promised you. And like I told you a billion times, Timmy is sick. He needs us."

"It's just a flu! Drake can deal with it," Damian snarled, glaring at Tim.

Timothy was lying in bed, covers pulled up all the way to his chin. There was a pale sheen of sweat on his face, and every now and then he would shiver violently. Jason sat at the foot of his bed, murmuring words of comfort.

"And you, Todd! I can't believe even _you_ are kowtowing to Drake's pathetic whims." Damian crossed his arms.

"Get out of the room, Demon-spawn," Jason said. "You're disturbing Timmy's rest."

"Jason-" Dick said, meaning to tell off his younger brother. But Jason _was_ right; Tim needed to sleep in order to recover. And right now, Damian was admittedly being a brat and throwing a temper tantrum."Dami, I'm sorry. We'll go to the zoo tomorrow, okay? Can you just step out for the time being? Please?"

Damian gritted his teeth.

Bruce finally spoke up from his seat in the corner. "C'mon, chum. Be a good sport."

"Whatever you say, Father," Damian said coolly. Before he went out the door, he paused and added, "I don't want to go to the zoo anymore, Grayson. Looks like that frees up your Sunday." Once outside, he was at a loss as to what to do. He stood in the corridor for several seconds, thinking silently.

After a while, Damian made his way to his bedroom. He got out his sketchbook and started to draw the Batfamily, using extra care to sketch and shade the features of Grayson and his Father. He used a marker for the vague outline of Jason, giving it much less attention. When he moved on to Drake, his lip curled and he used his crayon to scribble out a monstrous demon-like child. As for himself, he tentatively doodled a stickman-style child, sandwiched forcefully between Bruce and Dick. He stared at the paper so hard he thought he might burn holes into it.

Someone knocked on the door suddenly.

"I don't want to hear it," Damian said, guessing it was Dick.

It was. Richard opened the door and poked his head in, attempting a grin. "Dami," he said.

"If you do not remove your head from the door frame, Grayson, I will gladly remove it from your body," Damian said snottily. He closed his sketchbook and shoved it under his pillow.

"Nah, you won't," Dick said. He had the nerve to laugh out loud before walking into the room. He sat on the bed beside Damian. "So what's up, Dami? Why are you so pissed?"

"Simple: Drake is weak. You all indulge him for it. That doesn't make sense."

"Really? Because _I_ think someone is...jealous," Dick said, an evil glint entering his eye.

"Shut up, Grayson," Damian sneered. "As if I would be jealous of Drake of all people. Why would I want to be mollycoddled?" He shifted in his bed and rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is that-"

"You are jealous!" Dick blurted out, laughing. "Oh boy, wait til Jaybird hears 'bout this."

"Am not! Grayson, if you weren't my favorite partner, I'd dash your head against the ground and feed your underdeveloped _brains_ to Drake," Damian spat.

"Ouchie!" Dick mock-pouted. "Look, Dami, I get why you'd feel that way. You don't have to hide it. I mean, every single one of us has gone through that phase at least once in our entire lives. _I_ got it when Jason turned up. And then Jaybird himself was insanely jealous when Timmy appeared as Robin - that's why he still calls Tim 'Replacement' sometimes, he's bitter. And think of Timothy. How he must have felt about _you_ , Dami."

Damian went red. The thing was, Grayson kind of...made sense. "Go on," he made a waving motion with his hand, "I'm listening."

"Right. What I'm telling you is that you have it easy already. You're the 'baby' of the family, and everything pretty much goes your way-"

"Excuse me!" Damian said. "Everything goes my way, Grayson? Have you forgotten Todd calling me 'Demon-spawn' and Drake being the spiteful little monster he is whenever he sees me?"

"To be fair, Dami," Dick said with a smile, "you did try to murder him."

Damian stuck his tongue out childishly.

"Like I said, you're spoiled by us already, kiddo. So when Timmy is sick, give him a break, okay? He isn't feeling well, and the least you could is shower him with brotherly love. That's the way our family works. We give love to whoever needs it most," Dick said quietly.

Damian cocked his head. "That's a stupid policy."

"Maybe it is, but we operate quite well under it."

"Well. I'll try to." Damian swallowed his distaste and stood up. "But only for _your_ sake, Grayson. And another thing-"

"Yes, Dami?"

"I am _not_ jealous."

(line break)

"Oh God, what have you done, Damian? I thought I told you to give Timmy brotherly love!"

"What on earth are you on about, Grayson? I did what you said, now get off my back."

"What? Then why the heck is Tim unconscious?!"

"Fucking Demon-spawn, what did you do to hurt Tim?"

"Language, Jason! Dami, tell me what you did right now!"

"I went to his room and kissed him on the cheek. Drake seemed convinced I was going to assassinate him. He was screaming in horror, that little wussy."

"..."

"..."

"That explains it."


	3. A Bat To Keep

**More semi-tragic fluff on Dick and Damian. Oh, and a killer clown thrown into the mix.**

The Joker sits, cross-legged, in front of the young Robin. _One last job,_ he thinks, _one last job before he retires._ After all, everything has lost its meaning since his Batman died. It's only fitting, however, to make his last crime as symbolic as possible – the murder of another Robin, in much the same manner as he had done for the second one.

This one is a new one, he surmises as he studies the Robin. Not as slim, not as lithe. When the small head, lolling forwards, jerks upright, he sees the eyes through the ridiculous mask. Such dark, _dark_ , dark, blue eyes, glowering at him in ferocious beauty. The infamous Bat-glare!

Not a bird, then.

A little bat, complete with fangs and fur and claws. What _did_ they call baby bats anyway? Puppies, kittens, calves, cubs...aha! Yes, _pups_. "You're just a little pup, aren't you?" Laughter bubbles up in his throat, and it feels _good_. He hasn't laughed in ages.

The Joker reaches out, pulls the gag off, and sinks back onto his heels. Well, _this_ is going to be fun.

"You sick bastard! Let me go!" Robin bawls immediately, fury colouring his cheeks.

Such beautiful dark hair. Silky and glossy. Oh, he's _so_ different from the second one. The Joker licks his scars unconsciously, savouring the moment. He searches for words, and upon finding none, goes back to the old classic – manic laughter.

"You had better let me go-" Robin snarls (and oh! It's a textbook Bat-snarl).

"Hmm-mhh. I wonder what's behind that _pur-retty_ mask of yours, birdie. I must say the sneak preview of your sweet blue eyes...well, it already has me _hooked_." The Joker grasps the edge of the mask, toying with it with a coy smile. He pulls it off, unable to wait any longer like a child on Christmas day.

And oh my! He isn't disappointed. That face...so much like _Brucie_! He erupts in a fit of giggles. "A pretty face behind a pretty mask, Robin! Heehee!"

Robin glowers at him, before saying slowly and distinctly, "Batman is going to kill you when he finds you."

"Bat-man? Are you talking about Dickie? That fake bat... _such_ a _naughty_ bird! Capering about in a cowl isn't going to make him a bat!" The Joker shakes his head, assuming a tragic expression. "Oh, no. Bats are born, not _made_." His faux-solemn expression melts into a genuinely serious one. "They can be killed too...ah, bless that one. Bless him and his big bat-heart." It still makes his mouth pucker when he thinks of the original Batman – never has there been a worthier arch-nemesis, and it's a waste that the Batman had to die.

Crimes have lost their _fun_.

And even worse, as soon as the real Batman died, the bat-fake turned up. Ole' Dickie...as if he could ever take up that mantle. "He should've stuck to being a birdbrain!" The Joker hisses vehemently.

"I won't even pretend to know what you're talking about, Joker." Damian says coolly, with as much aplomb as possible. _Focus, Damian,_ he tells himself. _Grayson will come soon. He's never failed you before. Just...stall for time._

The Joker knows he can pick up the crowbar now...smash little Robin's skull open...break every bone in his tiny body...but somehow, the urge is simply not there. It's not bloodthirst he's high on, it's _awe_. Wonder. Something damn close to reverence. And there's only one thing the Joker reveres – his Bat-God. Because Batman has done it again: he's managed to surprise the Joker, even from the grave.

There's jealousy too. It's needle-sharp and needle- _small_ too, and the anger he feels at Batman being with someone else is overshadowed by the relief. _It's okay, it's not over yet. Bats is gone, but his legacy is not. And this time no one is going to mess it up. No one, not even Grayson._

The boy is...perfect. He is a mini-Bruce, an upgraded version, even. The Joker reaches out with a gloved hand to touch the boy's pearly cheek, just to reassure himself that yes, this is all real. This isn't some vivid hallucination that's dragging on and on (in his experience, colours and shapes in those hallucinations were always surreal and warped).

Damian snaps at him, nearly biting off his fingers. "Keep your hands to yourself!" He barks. He is unsettled by the Joker's intense gaze, furious at his own helplessness. _Damn it all. I'm too_ weak _._

The Joker shudders. Perhaps he should finish the boy now, but the fantasies dancing in his mind are too alluring. _Damn it all. I'm too weak._ He hiccups out a laugh, the only sign betraying the intense struggle inside him. "To kill or not to kill, that is the question!" He shrieks.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get to decide.

Richard Grayson, in all his Kevlar-clad glory, chooses this exact moment to crash through the ceiling of the warehouse, landing with impeccable balance on the floor between Robin and the Joker after a tight somersault. "Bro, you okay?" He yells over his shoulder.

Damian swallows a cry of relief and adopts a nonchalant expression. "I am _fine_ , Grayson. Spare me your concern and pity. I don't need it."

The Joker squeals as Grayson tackles him, landing on the ground with a loud thump. "No! You can't! You don't know what you're doing..." He babbles, trying to wrench himself out of Grayson's chokehold. _You can't do this...the boy is my chance at another Batman...I'm so close..._ "Get off!" He growls, spraying acid at Grayson from the flower on his lapel. The man releases him, long enough for the Joker to take several steps towards Damian.

Robin is still tied to the chair, immobile, as the Joker half-crawls to him in desperation. The boy flinches as far back as he can without toppling the chair. The Joker takes off his gloves and touches Robin's cheek lovingly. "Finally...a Batman I can...keep..."

The crowbar slams into him from behind, and the Joker falls unconscious.

"Damian! Damian!" Dick yells incoherently. He unties his Robin and holds the boy to his chest. "Thank God! What did the bastard say to you? I swear...if he did _anything_ to you, I'm going to kill him!"

Damian shakes his head, speechless. He grabs a handful of Dick's cape, holding it close to himself. He looks up at his older brother, masked in the iconic Batman cowl and thinks of his dead father.

"Dami?" Dick asks, brow furrowed in worry. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That was what he wanted, Grayson: a Batman he could keep." Damian feels tears coming to his eyes. "That was all I ever wanted from Father too. And now, I guess the difference between me, and _him_ , is that...I got my wish fulfilled." He looks up at his brother with bright eyes. "Through _you_ , Grayson."

"Damian. Let's go home," Richard says solemnly, clasping his baby brother's shoulder in his gloved hand.


End file.
